


Empty Glass, Full Promises

by dearcaspian



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Short One Shot, julian can't handle his bitters, smooches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 09:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15216299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearcaspian/pseuds/dearcaspian
Summary: “It’s soup, Ilya,” Yvenne teases, though she knows that isn’t what he means at all.“It’s more than soup. It’s you.” The emphasis he attempts to put on the final word is vaguely slurred, eliciting dual smiles from both of them. “I mean it. I don’t know what will happen as far as the Countess’s hunt for me is concerned, but I do know I can’t see any kind of outcome without you in it.”





	Empty Glass, Full Promises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleAprilFlowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleAprilFlowers/gifts).



"Ybnne. Yvennes. I'm fine. Honest. Honestly.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. This is the most hones' I've ever been."

Yvenne hides a giggle behind a palm as she stares up at Julian's lopsided smile. "The most honest?" 

"Mhmmmm. That's what they call me." He takes a swig of his drink and stares off into the near distance, leaving the rest of his sentence hanging in the air. 

"Ilya."

"Yes?" He swivels to face her, eyes brightening. "My dear? What do you need?"

Yvenne buries her laughter into the sleeve of her dress, unable to stop herself. The two had been seated in a corner of the Rowdy Raven for what must have been hours now, the daylight outside long since faded into obscurity. It was a quiet evening for the tavern. Yvenne and Julian were the loudest there through the constantly circulating regulars, despite Yvenne's continuous insistence that they remain reserved and out of sight for the evening lest they draw unwanted attention. If their chatter attracted any, nobody made note of it. Apparently, there was relative safety in being conspicuous among these people.

Julian's pale face is flushed. A number of empty glasses sit before them on the table, those on his side more numerous than Yvenne's own. He drinks the last drop and tips the glass upside down, staring within as if wondering where the bitters had gone.

"Funny," he says. "This was just full."

“I’m sure it was," Yvenne says with a grin. "I think we've had enough. You have had enough."

She places a placating hand on his arm. He shakes his head, tousled red curls bouncing in every direction.

"No. You're happy here."

"We can be happy elsewhere," she says, the idea carrying a lightly suggested implication. She tugs gently at his shoulder, and he sways with the motion as if she had yanked him.

Julian protests, gripping the table for balance. "But I like it when you're happy. Your... you just light up, your whole being. It looks like magic in itself."

He leans in, the kiss missing her mouth by a few inches. Yvenne laughs and rubs her jaw.

"What did I do?" Julian mumbles. 

"Everything. Come on, let's go."

The two take to the streets, wandering at first with no real intent on a destination. Julian ends up leaning on Yvenne far less than she would have thought. They move slowly, brushing together every other step, hands tightly clasped. The fresh air seems to clear a fraction of the intoxication clouding Julian's natural competence, halting his incessant but immensely pleasant talking of nothing at all into a milder, focused drawl.

"Where are we going?" he asks, finally glancing at his surroundings. "Not that it matters. You could lead me into the palace itself and I'd follow."

Yvenne bumps against him in tender scolding. "Don't be grim. We're going to... Mazelinka's?"

He nods. "Oh, good. I could use some stew."

"You ate two bowls at the Raven, Ilya."

He waggles his eyebrows. "I'm a growing boy."

Yvenne’s giggles are infectious, coaxing a string of slightly bemused chuckles from Julian. “Besides,” she adds, “it must be nearly midnight. I doubt she’ll be in the mood to cook for you.”

“Would you? You make the best.”

“Depends on what you have to offer me in return.”

Julian stops, Yvenne teetering on one foot for a second as she halts suddenly beside him. The doctor’s expression is much clearer than it had been, now. His grey eyes have lost the luster of alcohol and stare deeply through the minute space between them, searching for something Yvenne has trouble identifying.

“Oh, everything." Julian's voice is a low hum “I have everything to offer you.”

He places a kiss on her left cheek, lips steadier this time around but still missing their objective. Yvenne leans into the touch, the warmth of his presence a protection from the chilled breeze.

“It’s soup, Ilya,” Yvenne teases, though she knows that isn’t what he means at all.

“It’s more than soup. It’s  _ you _ .” The emphasis he attempts to put on the final word is vaguely slurred, eliciting dual smiles from both of them. “I mean it. I don’t know what will happen as far as the Countess’s hunt for me is concerned, but I do know I can’t see any kind of outcome without you in it.”

He kisses her right cheek near the nose, a hand softly entangling itself in her hair. 

“There’s so much I want to show you, see with you, do for you. Your joy is my own, and I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for that.”

Yvenne meets his gaze. The sincerity in his declaration rivals any gratitude he had ever shown her before this. He seems years younger, the stress and emotional shackles of a life on the run crumbling to reveal a person she knew he so desperately wished to be, and the remnants of a dreamt life desired he was trying so hard to attain.

A kiss on the chin, hesitant.

“Okay,” Yvenne whispers. “I’ll make the soup.”

Julian laughs, head thrown back, the street echoing with his hearty delight. He leans down for another kiss, and his lips eventually find their mark.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a request fill for my dear LittleAprilFlowers! Yvenne belongs to them!


End file.
